Poor Little Rich Girl | ✓

Chapter 3: It's Actually My Spirit

Chapter 3: It's Actually My Spirit

“Stephanie, wake up.” I hear a voice say next to my ear and immediately I place it as my Grandma Nancy’s because she’s the only person who insists on calling me that.

“No.” I mutter, pulling my cover over my head.

“Yes, get up.”

“Go away.” I whine, trying to ignore her voice.

I hear her footsteps retreat and smile to myself. I begin to fall back into my peaceful sleep and I’m almost back to it when I hear my grandmother coming back into the room. “I’m going to give you until the count of five to get out of bed before I have to do this.”

I peak an eye open, and look towards my window. I see that the sky is still black; the sun nowhere in sight. My grandma has lost her mind if she thinks this girl is getting up before the sun does. I close my eye again and ignore her warning. Like her counting scares me or something. Oh Grandmother, so amateur.

“…three…four…This is your last chance, Stephanie…five.” She doesn’t say anything after that and then suddenly I hear a heart shattering loud blaring noise, causing me to jump up in startle, falling off of the stupid tiny bed. And to make it even worse, I hit my head on the side of the nightstand on the way down.

“What the hel-heck was that for?” I shout, censoring my language. I don’t exactly mean to shout at my grandma, but she just fired an air horn like two centimeters from my ear, nearly deafening and killing me in the process.

“I use it for safety purposes. And now I’m gonna be using it when you’re being difficult.” She explains.

I climb to my feet from the floor, grabbing my cell phone from the bed. I unlock it and narrow my eyes at my horrid grandmother when I see what time it is. “Why on Earth would you wake me up at 4:45 in the morning?” I ask, trying to keep my composure.

“Because, Daisy and Betsy need to be milked and fed.”

I run my hand through my hair, making it stay down and send a wicked look towards the evil lady. “I don’t know who this Daisy and Betsy are, but I’m not milking nor feeding anything on this stupid farm that you call a home.” I tell her.

“I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen me, Stephanie, but surely you’ve not forgotten that I don’t tolerate children disrespecting adults. You are a child, and while you’re living here that’s how you’re going to be treated. You’re going to respect and you’re going to do what I ask you to do, because I am your grandmother and that’s that. Do you understand?”

“You’re insane.” I mutter, crawling back into my bed.

“Fine, stay asleep. But you have to be leaving for school at about 8:00, so you better allot yourself enough time to do your chores.” She says, leaving my room.

“School?” I repeat, opening my eyes.

“You didn’t think you’d just sit around here all day long doing nothing, did ya?” She calls back.

Of course I didn’t. I just didn’t think I’d be going to a new school this early. I mean, we just got here! Literally like twelve hours ago.

I get out of my bed, and walk out of my room, barging into my parents room without knocking. “Mom?!” I say loudly, trying waking her up.

“Yes, Steffy?” She mutters, still half asleep.

“I’m not going to school today, am I?”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” She wonders.

“Because we just got there. Have you even registered me?”